New Year's Eve Read Free Page B

her eyes open. She said mm-hmm, and did the other eye. A big makeup case sat on the bathroom counter. Eighteen eye shadow colours, about forty lipsticks and blushes.
    She made me sit on a stool while she made up my face.
    “You’re good at this.” I tried to speak without blinking.
    “I thought about being a makeup artist,” she said. “Like for the movies? But my dad wanted me to be a dental hygienist.”
    She did have really white teeth.
    “Are you working now?”
    “Part time, two days a week. I don’t like the dentist, though.”
    This was pretty weird, to be having an ordinary conversation with Sharla.
    She turned me so I could see myself in the mirror. She’d done a good job.
    Then she brushed my hair out and pinned up a couple of twists, so most of it was piled on my head. With the curling iron, she caught some smaller strands. In no time, I had little ringlets falling on each side.
    It was the best I’d looked in years. All sparkling. And I liked those jeans, they made me feel trim.
    “Good,” she said, turning me from side to side. She sprayed my hair like crazy.
    Then she turned aside and went to the bedroom, stripping of her towel and bodysuit on the way. She picked a new bra and socks from a drawer. I felt pretty awkward being there while she wandered around naked. She paid no attention to me at all. I couldn’t help seeing that the rug did not match the curtains, if you know what I mean. So the blonde hair was a dye job. But she had smooth, unstretched skin and nice little unsaggy breasts.
    I turned to the baby so I didn’t have to watch Sharla.
    Daisy was awake, beginning to move her head from side to side. She reminded me of her dad, waking up.
    I undid the straps and took Daisy out of the car seat, holding her tight. We walked in front of the long mirror.
    I’d been in maternity jeans for more than a year. The ones I had on now were my first pair without a wide band of elastic across the belly. Zipped up snug over my pale leftover baby flab, the jeans looked good.
    “Okay!” Sharla said, pulling a rodeo belt tight around her tiny waist. The shiny buckle was bull-rider size, as big as a pie plate. “Let’s get over there, get this party started!”
    I changed Daisy’s diaper and put her in a clean sleeper and back into her snowsuit. She didn’t like that too much. She waved her arms around and said Nahh! in little explosions. One of her kicks got me straight in the jaw. But I was the boss of her, and we were going to the dance.
    Sharla found a blanket to fold around Daisy. We wrapped scarves up to our eyes, but it was still cold. Ice under the snow made me slide a couple of times, but we got there.
    Trucks filled the parking lot by the hall, and more were parked along the road. A yellow light bulb lit up the front door, where people were going in and out.
    Inside, the hall was hot, with more of those yellow lights glowing. People stood in bunches around the bar and the food table. Fewer out on the dance floor, but enough. It was noisy.
    “Hey, there’s Jade,” Sharla said. “Jade!” she called “Jade!”
    A woman waved and came toward us. A fringed jacket hung easy over her wide shoulders. As she walked the fringes swayed a little.
    Sharla spoke in my ear. “Jade—she’s Tim Lamont’s wife. He’s the Mountie in charge here. The one who went to Vegas without her.”
    Jade was taller than me, with long dark hair. She was really good looking. She looked like the woman jeans were invented for. I felt young and shy and stupid.
    But she smiled at me with an open face when Sharla said who I was. About the snowstorm and why we were there. Jade gave me a hug, for nothing.
    Then I forgot how beautiful she was and just liked her.
    Good thing I did. Because Sharla, again, was not too friendly.
    “Why don’t you like her?” I asked Sharla when Jade went back to her table to get her drink.
    Sharla shrugged. “I never said I didn’t. She’s bossy, I guess.”
    Sometimes people see their